Man City Rollercoaster Keeps on Rolling
May 8th 2008 07:07
Ahhh Man City. They have given journalists more to talk about in the last 25 years, than Michael Jackson and Bindi Irwin put together. Well, not together, but you know what I mean.
Being neighbours to the biggest club in the world is never easy, but far from keeping their heads down and plodding along quietly, City constantly flirt with greatness only to be slapped back down again, like a dog getting frisky with your nether regions.
The latest instalment is perhaps the most bizarre yet and involves Thailand’s answer to Benito Mussolini, a Swedish lothario, an alleged racist yet lovable Portuguese mad man, and a football club that doesn’t have a clue whether it’s coming or going.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s go back just a few shorts months, to the startling announcement that ousted Prime Minister of Thailand, Doctor (of what I don’t know) Thaksin Shinawatra, had taken control at Manchester City and had a five year plan that started with a top ten finish but ended with a march to the top of the football world and beyond. The long-suffering City fans were jubilant and Thai food consumption soared in the land of meat pie, mushy peas and gravy. Even the most liberal amongst us were willing to put a human right’s record that would make Adolf blush, down to over-exuberance and good-intentioned determination.
Things soon took a turn for the unexpected when Sven Goran Eriksson was appointed manager amidst a wave of linger uncertainty from his time as England boss. But never fear, ‘Frankie’ Shinawatra was here to guide Sven - he’d see us right.
And what a team they made. A modern day Anthony and Cleopatra said some, a modern day Cannon and Ball said others, but whatever the comments were, the results on the pitch were simply incredible.
The players were pretty good too; Bianchi Corluka, Garrido, Bojinov, Geovanni, Petrov and, in particular, the little wizard, Elano, teamed up with fan favourites Richards, Johnson and Dunne. We even had Schmeichel in net. This truly was Playstation football.
However, the real peak came when for the first time in over 30 years City completed the league double over their rich, successful and just bloody massive neighbours, Man United. I, like all other Blues, wept with joy.
But then… things turned sour.
Elano’s form plummeted, Petrov started to look like a lunatic, Richards lost his shine, Garrido was found out, and Bianchi became… well… just rubbish. City’s poor run of form saw them drop down the league quicker than a whore’s g-string, and for a man like Shinawatra, someone had to be made accountable. Of course this didn’t all happen overnight, I mean, he had fraud charges to answer, an arrest warrant to face, and an election to rig… erm, I mean win.
He arrived back at Manchester City looking like a bear with a sore arse, determined to blame someone for his team’s drop in form. Publicly airing his grievance he made sure the City fans knew he wouldn’t stand for failure. Then, to be fair to him, after City’s embarrassing defeat to Fulham, in which they were leading by two with only 25 minutes left on the clock, it was made clear to everyone exactly who Frankie thought was to blame.
Stories were leaked so fast, it was hard to know who to call first, The Daily Mirror or Tim the Plumber. Regardless, one thing was made abundantly clear. Sven was gone.
The City fans went wild and the friendly Thai businessman who’d shared a Chicken Laksa (it’s a kind of Thai soup) with them in August, became an evil, power hungry, human rights fiend, who wanted to ruin the club. We never liked him anyway.
It’s now the end of season and we’ve not won a thing and talk of Europe seems so long ago. We even find ourselves sniffing around Scolari, like a dirty old man hanging outside a nightclub at 2am with nothing but a pair of binoculars and packet of tissues.
Most City fans will spout righteous, but ultimately pointless, indignation until they’re literally blue in the face about our new owner and how he’s ruined the club, without even a hint of irony. That’s football fans for you.
Not me though. I love it. We’re never going to be as good as United (certainly not in the next decade at least) but we’ll never be boring. Long may the drama continue because what else is there to read about?
Actually did you hear about Michael Jackson and Bindi Irwin...?
Being neighbours to the biggest club in the world is never easy, but far from keeping their heads down and plodding along quietly, City constantly flirt with greatness only to be slapped back down again, like a dog getting frisky with your nether regions.
The latest instalment is perhaps the most bizarre yet and involves Thailand’s answer to Benito Mussolini, a Swedish lothario, an alleged racist yet lovable Portuguese mad man, and a football club that doesn’t have a clue whether it’s coming or going.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s go back just a few shorts months, to the startling announcement that ousted Prime Minister of Thailand, Doctor (of what I don’t know) Thaksin Shinawatra, had taken control at Manchester City and had a five year plan that started with a top ten finish but ended with a march to the top of the football world and beyond. The long-suffering City fans were jubilant and Thai food consumption soared in the land of meat pie, mushy peas and gravy. Even the most liberal amongst us were willing to put a human right’s record that would make Adolf blush, down to over-exuberance and good-intentioned determination.
Things soon took a turn for the unexpected when Sven Goran Eriksson was appointed manager amidst a wave of linger uncertainty from his time as England boss. But never fear, ‘Frankie’ Shinawatra was here to guide Sven - he’d see us right.
And what a team they made. A modern day Anthony and Cleopatra said some, a modern day Cannon and Ball said others, but whatever the comments were, the results on the pitch were simply incredible.
The players were pretty good too; Bianchi Corluka, Garrido, Bojinov, Geovanni, Petrov and, in particular, the little wizard, Elano, teamed up with fan favourites Richards, Johnson and Dunne. We even had Schmeichel in net. This truly was Playstation football.
However, the real peak came when for the first time in over 30 years City completed the league double over their rich, successful and just bloody massive neighbours, Man United. I, like all other Blues, wept with joy.
But then… things turned sour.
Elano’s form plummeted, Petrov started to look like a lunatic, Richards lost his shine, Garrido was found out, and Bianchi became… well… just rubbish. City’s poor run of form saw them drop down the league quicker than a whore’s g-string, and for a man like Shinawatra, someone had to be made accountable. Of course this didn’t all happen overnight, I mean, he had fraud charges to answer, an arrest warrant to face, and an election to rig… erm, I mean win.
He arrived back at Manchester City looking like a bear with a sore arse, determined to blame someone for his team’s drop in form. Publicly airing his grievance he made sure the City fans knew he wouldn’t stand for failure. Then, to be fair to him, after City’s embarrassing defeat to Fulham, in which they were leading by two with only 25 minutes left on the clock, it was made clear to everyone exactly who Frankie thought was to blame.
Stories were leaked so fast, it was hard to know who to call first, The Daily Mirror or Tim the Plumber. Regardless, one thing was made abundantly clear. Sven was gone.
The City fans went wild and the friendly Thai businessman who’d shared a Chicken Laksa (it’s a kind of Thai soup) with them in August, became an evil, power hungry, human rights fiend, who wanted to ruin the club. We never liked him anyway.
It’s now the end of season and we’ve not won a thing and talk of Europe seems so long ago. We even find ourselves sniffing around Scolari, like a dirty old man hanging outside a nightclub at 2am with nothing but a pair of binoculars and packet of tissues.
Most City fans will spout righteous, but ultimately pointless, indignation until they’re literally blue in the face about our new owner and how he’s ruined the club, without even a hint of irony. That’s football fans for you.
Not me though. I love it. We’re never going to be as good as United (certainly not in the next decade at least) but we’ll never be boring. Long may the drama continue because what else is there to read about?
Actually did you hear about Michael Jackson and Bindi Irwin...?
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